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Alicia Keys .. poetry. `nuff said.

Russell Simmons presents Def Poetry Jam hosted by Mos Def.

CLip of Kanye West at Def Poetry Jam

Black Ice on Def Poetry

Phoebe Snow~Poetry Man (1989)

Russell Simmons presents Def Poetry Jam hosted by Mos Def.

KRS-One rhymes over Doug E Fresh beatboxing.

A performance by Talib Kweli on Russel Simmons Def Peotry Jam

Saul Williams performs his popular poetry piece Coded Language of Def Poetry Jam.

A Rik Mayall live sketch from the early '80s.

CB's slightly drunken contribution to Voyager's Poetry in Motion multimedia series from the '90's.

Suheir Hammad - Def Poetry

Poetry

Audio of Poetry in Motion by Johnny Tillotson (1960)

U.S. Poet Laureate (2004-2006) Ted Kooser is a major poetic voice for rural and small town America and the award-winning author of ten collections of poetry, most recently 2004's Pulitzer Prize-winning Delights and Shadows. Nebraskan Kooser often draws from his native Great Plains and his poems are acclaimed for their simple, straightforward style. Kooser reads from his poetry before a standing-room only audience in Campbell Hall at UC Santa Barbara. [8/2005] [Humanities] [Arts and Music] [Show ID: 9537]

Spoken word from the humble genius, Scroobius Pip. www.scroobiuspip.co.uk www.myspace.com/scroobiuspip

Special Poetry Slam Intro

The prevalence of the ugly word among blacks in America.

I love being Black. I love being called Black. I love being an American. I love being a Black American, but as a Black man in this country I think it's a shame that every few years we get a change of name. Since those first ships arrived here from Africa that came across the sea there were already Black men in this country who were free. And as for those that came over here on those terrible boats, they were called niggah and slave and told what to do and how to behave. And then master started trippin' and doing his midnight tippin', down to the slave shacks where he forced he and Great-Great Grandma to be together, and if Great-Great Grandpa protested, he got tarred and feathered. And at the same time, the Black men in the country who were free, were mating with the tribes like the Apache and the Cherokee. And as a result of all that, we're a parade of every shade. And as in this late day and age, you can be sure, they ain't too many of us in this country whose bloodline is pure. But, according to a geological, geographical, genealogy study published in Time Magazine, the Black African people were the first on the scene, so for what it's worth, the Black African people were the first on earth and through migration, our characteristics started to change, and rearrange, to adapt to whatever climate we migrated to. And that's how I became me, and you became you. So, if we gonna go back, let's go all the way back, and if Adam was Black and Eve was Black, then that kind of makes it a natural fact that everybody in America is an African American. Everybody in Europe is an African European; everybody in the Orient is an African Asian and so on and so on, that is, if the origin of man is what we're gonna go on. And if one drop of Black blood makes you Black like they say, then everybody's Black anyway. So quit trying to change my identity. I'm already who I was meant to be I'm a Black American, born and raised. And brother James Brown wrote a wonderful phrase, "Say it loud, I'm Black and I'm proud! Say it loud, I'm Black and I'm proud!" Cause I'm proud to be Black and I ain't never lived in Africa, and 'cause my Great-Great Granddaddy on my Daddy's side did, don't mean I want to go back. Now I have nothing against Africa, it's where some of the most beautiful places and people in the world are found. But I've been blessed to go a lot of places in this world, and if you ask me where I choose to live, I pick America, hands down. Now, by and by, we were called Negroes, and after while, that name has vanished. Anyway, Negro is just how you say 'black' in Spanish. Then, we were called colored, but shit, everybody's one color or another, and I think it's a shame that we hold that against each other. And it seems like we reverted back to a time when being called Black was an insult, even if it was another Black man who said it, a fight would result, cause we've been so brainwashed that Black was wrong, So that even the yellow niggahs and black niggahs couldn't get along. But then, came the 1960s when we struggled and died to be called equal and Black, and we walked with pride with our heads held high and our shoulders pushed back, and Black was beautiful. But, I guess that wasn't good enough, cause now here they come with some other stuff. Who comes up with this shit anyway? Was it one, or a group of niggahs sitting around one day? Feelin' a little insecure again about being called Black and decided that African American sounded a little more exotic. Well, I think you were being a little more neurotic. It's that same mentality that got "Amos and Andy" put off the air, cause they were embarrassed about the way the character's spoke. And as a result of that action, a lot of wonderful Black actors ended up broke. When we were just laughin' and have fun about ourselves. Why you keep trying to attach yourself to a continent, where if you got the chance and you went, most people there would even claim you as one of them; as a pure bread daughter or son of them. Your heritage is right here now, no matter what you call yourself or what you say And a lot of people died to make it that way. And if you think America is a leader on inequality and suffering and grievin', how come there so many people comin' and so few leavin'? Rather than all this 'find fault with America' fuck you promotin', if you want to change something, use your privilege, get to the polls! Commence to votin'! God knows we've earned the right to be called American Americans and be free at last. And rather than you movin' forward progress, you dwelling in the past. We've struggled too long; we've come too far. Instead of focusing on who we were, let's be proud of who we are. We are the only people whose name is always a trend. When is this shit gonna end? Look at all the different colors of our skin...

Bjork at Royal Opera House sing Pagan Poetry !!! (dedicace a Toma)

FREE BURMA WE ARE BUDDHIST,TOO Poetry reading for FREE BURMA,FREE Aung San Suu Kyi. 2008.4.19 EARTH DAY TOKYO いとうせいこう 高木完 DJ BAKU DUB MASTER X ミャンマー軍事政権に抗議するポエトリーリーディング "Poetry-reading against the military regime of Myanmar" by Seiko Ito Don't threaten the unresisting priests. Don't strike the unresisting priests. Don't imprison the unresisting priests. Don't kill the unresisting priests. They are out of the Power, And living in conformity with the law that is totally different from the Power. To threaten and strike them, To imprison and kill them, Those are totally lack of understanding and totally violence to "the people who live in conformity to the different law". And thus, destroying Others. And we are Others, too. Don't threaten the unresisting us. Don't strike the unresisting us. Don't imprison the unresisting us. Don't kill the unresisting us. We are out of the Power, and always have right to live in conformity to the different law. To threaten and strike us, To imprison and kill us. Those are totally lack of understanding and totally violence to "the people who own free will". And thus, destroying Others. Don't destroy Others. Don't destroy them, and us. Don't threaten. Don't strike. Don't imprison. Don't kill. The military regime of Myanmar! The goverment of China! Free Aung San Suu Kyi. Free Aung San Suu Kyi. Free Dalai Lama. Free Dalai Lama. We are them, too. They are us, too. Don't refuse a conversation. Because, conversation is the only way to link Others. If the Others fail to link, Threatening, striking, imprisoning and killing start. So, carry on a conversation! Carry on a conversation! And talk together to carry on a conversation! Thus, Freedom of Speech and Freedom of Press is to prevent threatening, striking, imprisoning and killing. To say carry on a conversation and to fall back on conversation, are equall to stand squarely in the way of threatening, striking, imprisoning and killing. The military regime of Myanmar. The goverment of China. Carry on a conversation. Don't threaten. Carry on a conversation. Don't strike. Carry on a conversation. Don't imprison. Carry on a conversation. Don't kill. Carry on a conversation! We are them, too. They are us, too.

Black Ice

Robert Pinsky, Poet, Book: "Jersey Rain" [Farrar, Straus & Giroux, Inc.]; George Plimpton, Editor, The Paris Review / Author; Richard Howard, Poet / Poetry Editor, The Paris Review; 1 clip from "The Favorite Poem Project": Construction worker John Doherty on what Walt Whitman's poem "Song of Myself" means to him /// Derek Walcott, Poet / Nobel Laureate; Book: "Tiepolo's Hound" [Farrar, Straus & Giroux, Inc.]; Select slides of Walcott's water color paintings from "Tiepolo's Hound" /// Joanne Weiner Rudof, Yale Univeristy / Fortunoff Video Archive; Martin S., Holocaust Survivor; Edith P., Holocaust Survivor; 2 clips from "Witness: Voices from the Holocaust" [Fortunoff Video Archive]; Book: "Witness:...

Nadja Schlüter aus Bonn - "Lob der Gleichzeitigkeit".

Billy Collins, former US Poet Laureate and one of America's best-selling poets, reads his poem "The Country" with animation by Brady Baltezor of Radium. Noted for their intelligent humor, accessibility and observations on daily life, Collins' popular poems come alive further in a series of animated poems produced by JWT-NY. Transcript - I wondered about you when you told me never to leave a box of wooden, strike-anywhere matches lying around the house because the mice might get into them and start a fire. But your face was absolutely straight when you twisted the lid down on the round tin where the matches, you said, are always stowed. Who could sleep that night? Who could whisk away the thought of the one unlikely mouse padding along a cold water pipe behind the floral wallpaper gripping a single wooden match between the needles of his teeth? Who could not see him rounding a corner, the blue tip scratching against a rough-hewn beam, the sudden flare, and the creature for one bright, shining moment suddenly thrust ahead of his time - now a fire-starter, now a torchbearer in a forgotten ritual, little brown druid illuminating some ancient night. Who could fail to notice, lit up in the blazing insulation, the tiny looks of wonderment on the faces of his fellow mice, onetime inhabitants of what once was your house in the country?